


There And Back Again: Part I – A Wizard’s Tale

by Jess_S



Series: Elda Kundu Kurutar [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 01:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4081189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess_S/pseuds/Jess_S
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the summer after fourth year, Harry makes an innocent wish... which takes him to a different world. He needs to find a way home, but first he has to decide where his home really is... (LOTR/HP)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blow Out the Candles

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling; Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.  
> Recap of the story, thus far (setting): In the Harry Potter universe, Voldemort has been resurrect, Cedric Diggory is dead as Pettigrew's hands, Minster Fudge is being cravenly foolish, Dumbledore has called "the old crowd" together, and Harry is stuck at his relatives' house for the summer. [Up through Bk4.] On Arda, Bilbo Baggins great-great-grand-parents haven't been born yet [FAR pre-Hobbit], King Isildur has been dead for some time and the One Ring has been all but forgotten by the mortal world.  
> Dedication: To all everyone on the TandBA mailing list that waited so long for this, and offered to help with only a little opposition.

_** Elda Kundu, Kurutar ** _

_**There And Back Again** _

**Part I – A Wizard’s Tale**

**A Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings Crossover**

**Prologue: Blow Out the Candles**

By Jess S

 

~* **_Privet Drive, Surrey – July 30, 1995_** *~

 

If you traveled to Privet Drive, located in Surrey, London, you would probably find the place rather dull. Actually, you would probably find it _exceptionally_ dull... for there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about it. In fact, it is probably the most **_normal_** street you will ever find.

 

And to all outward appearances, the fourth house on the street is no exception. This was the residence of the Dursley family; a family so obsessively normal that they are almost abnormal. Mr. Vernon Dursley is a large man with nearly no neck, who wears his most boring ties to work at the Grunnings firm in London, which makes drills. There he would sit at his desk with his back to the window and consider it a good day if he yelled at one or more of his co-workers. Mrs. Petunia Dursley is a tall, nosey housewife with a long, crane-like neck. She keeps her house immaculately clean, cooks superb meals and dotes on her son; unconditionally believing that he's as perfect as can be. Their spoiled and offensively overweight son, Dudley Dursley attends the same private school that his father attended in his youth. There he is just as much a bully as he was when he was in primary school.

 

But, despite the almost abnormal normality of it all, number four Privet Drive was an exception to normalcy's rule on the street. For inside this two-story house with it’s perfectly coordinated gardens and it’s frightfully dull shutters lived four individuals. The three Dursley, who were perfectly happy within its walls... and their nephew, Harry Potter, who had _never_ been the least bit happy there.

 

Granted, Harry’s life was somewhat more pleasant there _now_ , as he now had the smallest bedroom to himself instead of the cupboard under the stairs, where he had slept every night for the first eleven years of his life. Another plus was that Harry was now allowed to keep his school stuff and belongings, and do his homework, in his room so long as he never spoke of it or anything like it outside that room while in the Dursley's residence.

 

Now... most would find that idea rather strange.

 

One, it meant that Harry _wanted_ to do his homework, and two; it meant that his relatives _didn’t_ want him to. Undoubtedly the polar opposite of the situation most children, and teenagers in particular, find at home...

 

But Harry was not a normal teenager, as you might be able to tell from walking into his room. For his bedroom, with all of his belongings inside, didn’t fit in with the rest of the house anymore than Harry himself fit in with the Dursleys.

 

There were an extraordinary number of unusual things in his room. A large wooden trunk stood open at the foot of the bed, with a cauldron, broomstick, black robes, assorted spell books and similar items inside. Rolls of parchment took up a large part of his desk, and a large, empty cage took up the rest.

 

Seem odd yet?

 

Well, there is actually a very simple, yet very complicated explanation for all of this.

 

Harry Potter is a wizard. An under-age wizard, which was part of the reason he had to stay with his relatives every summer when he wasn’t attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

 

The second part of the explanation is that not only is Harry a wizard, but he is also not a normal wizard. He is the Boy-Who-Lived. He had been responsible for the Dark Lord Voldemort's first downfall, and is one of the few that presently believed that that same lord had returned. He could not really believe otherwise; because he had _seen_ it.

 

As Harry was considered by many to be Voldemort's 'greatest enemy,' his blood had been needed as an essential element for the magical ceremony cast only a few short weeks before. The purpose for the ceremony, as Harry had found out, was to create a new body for the Dark Lord’s demonic spirit, the only thing that had survived his first meeting with the Potter’s child.

 

Harry had only just managed to escape death at the newly resurrected Dark Lord’s wand that day. However, the one who had accompanied him, the other Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory, had not been so lucky...

 

At the moment, Harry was staring at the clock on his nightstand, which currently read 11:45 PM. This was, in a way, a tradition for Harry; for it was presently the thirtieth of July, and his birthday was fifteen minutes away.

 

This tradition had really been rather pointless in his youth, as the Dursleys would never make it an enjoyable experience. If he was lucky they would not remember, and he would not have to listen to them talk on and on about how grateful he should be to them, while they handed him more hand-me-downs.

 

But when he’d started attending Hogwarts that had changed. Now, his friends always made it somewhat enjoyable, because they always made sure he heard from them, and they always sent him emotive gifts...

 

Harry suddenly looked away from the clock, and out the window, to see what appeared to be a veritable _flock_ of owls soaring towards his window. Needless to say, he was startled, but nonetheless opened the window all the way and jumped back as they flew in.

 

The first few, among whom he could see his own snowy white owl, Hedwig, flew in and perched themselves atop Hedwig's cage, on his desk. Harry quickly dashed over to the desk and scooped the many rolls of parchment off, and pulled out the chair, so some could land there. He dumped the parchment in his trunk, to find two owls perched on the rim, and the other’s had landed on his bed, most of them on the rails. One perched on the windowsill. A moment later utter silence reigned throughout the smallest bedroom at number four Privet Drive.

 

Harry stared at his late night visitors. He recognized a few of them. His own owl, Hedwig, was perched atop her cage beside Errol, the Weasley family's major owl, Hermes, Ron’s older brother (one of them); Percy’s, and Pig, who was the only owl who hadn’t landed, and was instead flying around his room, up by the ceiling, excitedly. Another owl looked like one of the Hogwarts’ messengers, and another looked like a Ministry owl... but the... seven others he didn’t know.

 

Shaking his head, he went and relieved Hedwig of her relatively heavy burden. A letter and a package. Opening it, he smiled, and began reading.

 

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy Birthday! How has your summer been so far? I do hope your relatives aren’t treating you poorly. I’ve been exchanging letters with Victor for most of the summer, and I’ve been following the Daily Prophet – to keep myself up-to-date in the Wizarding world (and make sure that ‘Beetle’ keeps her word). Would you like me to send you a subscription?_

_How has your scar been lately? Are you sleeping well? If you aren’t, you should probably write the Headmaster, and ask him for some dreamless sleeping potions and what-not. I’m sorry if I sound like a worry-wart, it’s just that there’s only a month left till school starts, and, as much as you don’t like staying with your relatives, you should try to enjoy the holiday – and I doubt that’s really possible if you can’t get a decent night’s sleep._

_I do hope you like your present... I made one for Ron too. I know both of you are always saying that I put far too much stress on learning, scholarship and what-not, but this should be exceedingly useful... as long as it continues to serve its functions._

_On the whole, this is the Hogwarts library. Through the combination of a number of perfunctory replication and reproduction charms and the careful construction of Monsieur Édouard Mots's theories of the practical application of refined magical publishing -- which I don't doubt you care not a wit about -- I copied and combined every book in the school's library into one, single book. I even included the Restricted Section! …But don't tell anyone, okay? -- Ron in particular! And I'd rather you didn't bother Madam Pince, so if there’s anything wrong with yours, owl me._

_Ron suggested that we meet up in Diagon Alley again, the third weekend of the month. Can you make it? Will your aunt and uncle let you come? I really hope you can. If not, I’ll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!_

_Love from,_

**_Hermione_ **

 

 

Harry glanced at the magical tome and shook his head. As peculiar as he found it, he could only _imagine_ what Ron’s reaction probably was... Still she was right; it could be _very_ useful... Although how she had managed to convince Madame Pince to allow it was beyond him...

 

He smiled, shaking his head before turning to catch Pig and alleviate him of Ron’s package, then he relieved the other owls he recognized as part of the Weasley family -- Errol & Hermes -- of their burdens. Afterwards, he unfolded the letter Pig had been carrying, and began reading;

 

 

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy Birthday!_

_How’s your summer been? The Dursleys’ haven’t been too rotten have they? Mum and Dad said you I could invite you to the Burrow for the last two weeks of the month, that way we can go to Diagon Alley together. If you want, I could try to convince them to let you come earlier... Shouldn’t be all that hard. No offense, but they really don’t like your relatives! Anyway, don’t let them get you down!_

_Did Hermione really send you that big book for your birthday? It’s awful strange (don’t tell her I said that!) I can’t get mine to work... Anyway, I hope you like your presents; everyone wanted to send you one. I hope you don’t mind, but I think my family's decided to adopt you... Ginny made us all color the ribbons differently, so that you know who they’re from without having to worry about tags (they’re usually a waste of time (the tags) – because they fall off during delivery 80% of the time!)_

_With Errol;_

_\- White – Mum & Dad_

_With Pig;_

_\- Red – Fred & George (be careful when you open that one, they actually found someone to back Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, so they’ve made a bunch of new stuff for it, and I’m not sure how safe it all is...)_

_\- Gold – Me_

_With Hermes;_

_\- Orange – Percy_

_\- Pink – Ginny_

_With, actually I don’t know what owl’s they’re using;_

_\- Dark Green – Charlie_

_\- Light Green – Bill_

_There's notes with the packages too, but… I honestly didn’t want you to be too shocked by whatever Fred & George sent you... some of the presents they’ve given me for my birthday..._

_Well, anyway, hope to hear from you soon!_

_Bye –_

**_Ron_ **

 

 

Harry shook his head, and, chuckling, turned to the first package. He smiled and picked up the box with a white ribbon. Upon opening it, he found a package of fudge, and another package, which held a chocolate-frosted cake with the words ‘Happy Birthday Harry!’ decorating the top. When he opened the cake box, fifteen candles appeared on the cake and lit themselves, and he could hear the Weasley’s singing, with the volume obviously turned down – she’d probably figured that it’d be rather late when he got this, and didn’t want him to get in trouble with the Dursleys.

 

_“Happy Birthday to you,_

_Happy Birthday to you!_

_Happy Birthday deeaar Harrry..._

_Happy Birthday to you!”_

 

He smiled, touched more deeply by what was probably a combination of rather simple charms than most would willingly admit. Seeing that the candles didn’t melt, so they wouldn’t harm the cake, he placed it on his bedside table.

 

Still smiling, he picked up another present; this one was a small box with a pink ribbon, ‘ _Ginny..._ ’ Harry recalled. Carefully undoing the delicate ribbon, he peeled the parchment back to unveil a small wooden box, which was actually very charming in its own right, due to the impressive skill demonstrated in the carving of the woodwork. When he picked the box up a key appeared in the keyhole along the side, so he turned it and then opened the lid. Inside was a small crystal ball. Curious, he carefully removed the ball from its cushioned container and was somewhat surprised when a translucent version of the youngest Weasley’s head materialized within the globe.

 

“Hi Harry!” the hazel-eyed redhead smiled, “This is an _Alitum_ _Globe_... It’s like a penseive, except easier to travel with. Ron mentioned that you might be having trouble sleeping because of nightmares, and I thought this might help. I have one. It helped me a _lot_ after the Chamber...” the young witch blushed that had started at the tips of her ears began to expand downward and into her freely freckled cheeks, “I hope you like it! To use it, all that you have to do is get into a comfortable position, hold it in front of you with both hands... take deep breaths, and just... _think_. I know it sounds foolish, but it really does work! To look back at what went into the globe you just hold it in front of your face, in the palm of one hand, and say, ‘ _Reminiscori’_ , then it will show you everything from the most recent one, backward until you tell it to stop. To stop it, you just say, ‘ _Cease’_... Actually, to start it, the first time, you just say ‘ _Reminiscori’_ but you should add a password, so you say ‘ _Reminiscori’_ – whatever your password is. That way, no one can look at it without your permission... To change the password, you just say; ‘ _Abeo_ _password_ – what your current password is,’ then you say ‘password – what the new password is.” she smiled, “I hope you like it, bye! And Happy Birthday!”

 

Then the sphere was clear once again.

 

Harry stared at it for a few minutes, rather awed, before smiling. It was a very thoughtful gift. And it had to work fairly well, considering how quickly Ginny had seemed to recover from the Chamber of Secrets. Still smiling, he carefully placed it back in its box, locking it, and placing the key in the compartment that had appeared along the side.

 

He then turned and picked up another present. It was Percy’s present – orange ribbon – and it looked and felt like a book. Unwrapping it, he found that it was just that, times two. But it wasn’t as dull as he'd originally expected, because one was a book on Pre-Auror training, ‘ _Constant Vigilance!_ _by Alastor Moody_.’ Because of Crouch Jr., Harry had never really met the man who was supposed to teach DADA last school year, but judging from the act Crouch held as an imposter to look unsuspicious, Mad-Eye Moody would have probably been a pretty good teacher. Who knows? Maybe they’d have the actual Moody for DADA in fifth year... But it’d probably be pretty interesting to see the man’s opinions of his former job. Another book seemed to be an Apparition-prep book.

 

Setting the book aside – it didn’t have a card, just a bookmark that said ‘Happy Birthday’ –, next to Hermione’s tome, he picked up another gift.

 

This one had a rather odd shape, that and the red ribbon left no doubt in Harry’s mind that this was the twin’s gift. He got up and walked to the middle of the room, sitting down on the floor and setting the gift on the floor before cautiously undoing the ribbon and pulling back the parchment wrapping. Inside he found a collection of boxes that were all labeled as; ‘ ** _Weasleys Wizard Wheezes!_** ’.

 

Going through them, Harry grinned. The twins seemed to have sent him a bit of everything. Fake wands, trick sweets... you name it, they had it! Shaking his head, he picked up the note that was on top of them.

 

_The Founders, Inventors and Managers of **Weasleys Wizard Wheezes** , would hereby like to wish our ‘anonymous patron’ a wicked birthday!_

_Feel free to use these to ensure that it is!_

_Sincerely ~ **Fred & George Weasley**_

_PS - Don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten our promise! We’ll buy ickle Ronniekins a new robe when we go to Diagon Alley at the end of the summer! ^_~_

 

 

 

Harry chuckled, before turning to another owl. This one was... a rather _strange_ one. The present it was carrying was from one of the Weasley’s; a small box with a light green ribbon – which meant that it was from Bill. He quickly unwrapped the small package, to reveal what appeared to be a miniature trunk, with a glowing red button on top.

 

He offered a water dish to the obviously worn out owl; who hooted gratefully, before turning back to the tiny trunk.

 

Harry looked at it for a moment, and then – ignoring the little voice in the back of his head – he pushed the little red button.

 

The button went dark, then the whole trunk began to glow, rising into the air, and a moment later a gleaming, standard-sized trunk was on the floor in front of him.

 

The Boy-Who-Lived blinked, before opening the missive that appeared on top of the trunk.

 

_Dear Harry,_

_Gringotts just bequeathed a bunch of these to their wizarding employees - there's rumors about an account being closed, but the Ministry blocking any sort of auctioning of an old pureblood's belongings, but I don't really know more than that. Anyway, I sent several home, but Mum thought it might come in handy for you, too. It’s a Gringotts’ trunk – bottomless and weightless! It can carry/hold just about anything, and you can make it shrink/expand to any size, from any size you want... It’s weightless no matter what you put in it, and you’ll never have trouble finding stuff inside it! It also has the standard features;_

_\- Watertight/proof & it will float_

_\- Fireproof (If you were trapped in a burning house you could shut yourself inside it and come out perfectly fine! There’s a key to the latch on the inside, so you wouldn’t be stuck there. And as it's designed for the safe storage of plants, pets, etc. it provides oxygen if it detects life inside...)_

_\- There’s a ‘notice-me-not’ feature you can activate too... Basically it just means that people would see it, but they wouldn’t pay it any mind... So if someone broke into your house to steal stuff (Muggle or Wizard) they wouldn’t even think to look in the trunk or take it! Only people who are looking for it specifically might notice it._

_\- You can tell it to change the crests whenever you want to. So if you want it to look like a Hogwarts trunk now, you just put your wand in the key hole, picture the Hogwarts’ crest in your mind, and it will change from the Gringotts crests to that... If you want to change it afterwards, you can.... You probably should change it from the Gringotts’ crest... The Goblin’s are very suspicious creatures by nature, so it’s just easier to try avoiding conflict... You can come up with a personalized crest too... You can make one yourself, or let it think of one, just put your want and the keyhole, and think of... either what you want the crest to be, or you._

_Hope it helps. Happy Birthday!_

_Sincerely,_

### Bill Weasley

_PS: There’s a chain mechanism inside it too, for when you want to shrink it down to locket size. It’ll come out so you can wear it._

 

 

Harry stared at the trunk, more than a little awed. Now that would _definitely_ come in handy! He shook his head, thought about it for a minute, and then started moving his other belongings from his Hogwarts trunk and around his room, into his new trunk.

 

A few minutes later, everything was inside that trunk, with the exception of the parcels each owl still carried, and the birthday cake, which was now on top of his closed school trunk.

 

He then turned to another peculiar owl. It was a large owl, around fifteen inches (38.1cm), with a wingspan of about forty inches (101.6cm). Its feathers were a deep shade of brown with darker markings all over its body, and it had dark brown tufts near the center of its forehead and a light brown facial disk. It blinked at him with large yellow eyes as he offered the water dish to it (Bill’s owl had already left), before hooting in thanks and bending over to drink.

 

He then opened the package it carried, which was also from one of the Weasleys, it had a dark green ribbon – so it was from Charlie. He pulled the note out, and read.

 

 

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you? Doing well I hope. It’s been a bit dull down here, I think the Dragons are hibernating or something – the hot weather sometimes knocks them out for awhile... Anyway, Happy Birthday! I thought these might come in handy, and they’re pretty cool too! ^_~_

_Sincerely,_

### Charlie Weasley

_PS: There’s a personalization charm on them, so they’ll reshape themselves and grow or shrink to fit you as soon as you touch them. Plus, they’re spelled to grow with you – and they can endure almost anything!_

 

 

Harry blinked and then began unrolling the paper package.

 

Inside was a pair of dragon-hide boots, gloves and what looked like a wand holster. He picked the boots, which looked rather large, up, and almost dropped them when they began to shrink. A moment later they looked like they’d fit him perfectly. When he picked up the gloves and the wand holster, they did the same thing.

 

Harry shook his head. He had to hand it to the Weasley’s they sure knew what could come in handy! These weren’t cheep, but Charlie probably had the advantage of working with Dragons too...

 

He shook his head, carefully placing the items in his new trunk. Then, he decided to try personalizing the trunk, like Bill had said. He pulled out his wand and put it in the keyhole, and closed his eyes, trying to think of what he pictured himself to be like.

 

He didn’t see it, but after a moment the trunk began to glow again, and the medal crests began to change. Finally, they turned into a golden lion, with a silver snake wrapped loosely around its neck, behind his initials; _H.P._ , which were embossed atop them in a white-gold, and a deeper, golden lightning bolt was behind all of them.

 

Harry opened his eyes a moment later, and frowned upon seeing the lightning bolt... It seemed like he could never escape it...

 

With a sigh, he willed the trunk to shrink, and it turned into a necklace with a miniature-trunk/locket on it, just like Bill said it would, and he snatched it out of midair with little difficulty (thanks to his Seeker reflexes) and put it on. This was helpful for one thing at the moment, at least now he didn’t have to worry about the Dursleys taking his stuff away. They hadn’t been that bad so far, but they’d threatened to lock it up a few times. He walked back over to his bed again, picking his birthday cake up along the way, and set it on his bedside table.

 

He glanced at the clock again; 11:55... In five minutes, he’d be fifteen-years-old.

 

Before he could think of anything else, he doubled over as waves of raw pain erupted from his scar. He knew what this was, his scar – a remnant from his first encounter with the Dark Lord, on the Halloween night after his first birthday, when he’d survived the Avada Kedavra curse, cast by Voldemort himself – was, as far as he could tell, a permanent connection to the Dark Lord. Whenever Voldemort was; nearby, exceptionally pleased or exceptionally angry, Harry felt it through his scar. But that knowledge didn’t help him.

 

The pain was worse this time. It got worse every time it happened. He hadn’t told anyone that. He also had yet to tell anyone that Voldemort himself knew about the link, and had become accustom to ‘playing’ with him from time to time.

 

This, undoubtedly, was Voldemort’s idea of a birthday present...

 

PAIN...

 

He fought it... he couldn’t let _him_ win...

 

He heard his watch beeping faintly. Midnight. He was fifteen years old...

 

He had to make his wish...

 

On his birthday cake...

 

He staggered slightly as he pulled himself over toward the head of the bed, until he was sitting right up by his bedside table, looking down at his birthday cake.

 

He could just barely see it through the pain, a collection of tiny, flickering lights.

 

“M-Make a wish, Harry...” he muttered weakly to himself, and he did...

 

He wished the pain would stop… he wanted to be some place he could be free of it, and feel truly safe, and loved…

 

And before he could finish that thought, the pain from his scar intensified, so that he could see or feel nothing else, but as he was dragged into that pain... he just barely managed to heave a great breath in, and blow…

 

The candles’ flames flickered, and went out...

 

Perhaps it was the wish. The intense emotion behind it may have triggered his own magic as it had not done since the summer before last. Maybe Mrs. Weasley’s traditional Wizarding birthday cake had a little more magic in it than she thought. It might have even been the terrible pain Voldemort was sending his way – for he was sending that pain magically and thereby sending Harry magic. Or it may have just been destiny.

 

Whatever it was, it made the candle’s he’d blow out start to glow.

 

But Harry didn’t see the candles glow…

 

And he didn’t feel himself rising off the floor and up into the magic-charged air...  
  
~ * **_Caras Galadhon, 98 TA_** * ~  


Lady Galadriel sighed as she made her way into the grove where her mirror lay dormant, as it had, in truth, for many, many years. It was truly only force of habit that brought her back every day. Habit, and duty.

 

Embarenya had changed long in this past century with the Dark Lord’s Fall, and it would undoubtedly do so once again. But, for now, both the Mirror and the world it viewed were, for the most part, hibernating.

 

She moved over to the fountain on the far side of the pool, picking up the silver pitcher and filling it, she then walked back over to her mirror, slowly pouring the crystalline liquid in with an ease and grace bought by centuries of practice. When it was properly filled, she set the pitcher aside, and stood in front of the mirror again.

 

Galadriel gazed into its silvery depths awaiting any images it might offer. It showed some of the past she knew, and some of a past she did not...

 

After a short time, she shook her head, and began to draw back from the mirror. Suddenly a new ripple broke its surface. She blinked in surprise, returning her attention back to the mirror, as the image began to clear.

 

A moment later a happy, young, human family appeared in the silver cast. A young woman with brilliant red locks and green-eyes, and a young, raven-haired man with a peculiar contraption on his face, playing with a beautiful baby. The child had the father’s hair and the mother’s eyes. They sat in an elegantly furnished room, laughing and smiling.

 

The Lady of Lothlórien smiled softly as she watched what appeared to be a typical evening for the young family. However, that smile, was quickly replaced by a frown.

 

The Mirror usually allowed her to view the setting before the actual event that was important, at least when it was as clear as this. The images were rarely clear, but anything as clear as this, was very important. And this wonderful scene of a perfect, happy family, was the perfect setting for a tragedy...

 

The royal elleth was drawn out of her thoughts as both of the child’s parents in the vision looked up, apparently having heard something, and the man rose to his feet, the woman quickly following, holding her child protectively.

 

The man moved out of sight, and a moment later a look of alarm crossed the woman’s face as she spun around, and the vision switched to show the young man in front of her, turning as she closed the door. Then the vision switched back to the woman as she held her child tightly, as a burst of green light slammed the door open.

 

That light, Galadriel sensed, had been a malevolent curse, which was only confirmed by the grief and terror in the young woman’s eyes as she, after placing her child on the floor, partially hidden, turned toward the door as a new man, a dark man, entered.

 

This man was indeed very dark, and very evil. Evil enough that the Lady of Lórien momentarily wondered if this was a vision of some time past, and this a family that Sauron had handled personally.

 

But no, it couldn’t be. As evil as the man was, he didn’t seem as wicked as she remembered, and knew, the Dark Lord of Mordor to be.

 

Furthermore, the home these people lived in looked nothing like any home she’d seen in the world of Men.

 

‘ _So it must be a vision of the future... or another world._ ’ She thought, fighting to remain emotionally detached from the first compelling vision she’d received in decades...

 

As strange as it may sound, Galadriel had occasionally been offered glimpses of other worlds, but they had never been as clear, or terrible, as this.

 

All this flew through the immortal's mind as the woman pleaded with the dark man, clearly begging him to not harm her son.

 

The dark man listened to the woman for a moment, evidently finding her pleas quite amusing, but when she turned toward a nearby table – to grab a slender, willow stick, Galadriel noted – he raised a long yew stick he’d been carrying. The dark man then annunciated two words with practiced precision; and the appearance of a cruel smile was the only feature on his face that wasn’t shadowed by his hood.

 

A burst of green light, identical to the one that had blasted the door down and undoubtedly claimed the life of the young man who’d been guarding it, erupted from the end of the stick. Only this time it charged at the young woman, surrounding her and charging through her while spinning her around, to reveal a look of complete agony on her lovely face. A moment later, the green light faded, and the young woman fell, dead.

 

Galadriel's eyes widened as the man then turned to the infant who'd just witnessed his - she wasn't sure how she knew, but she knew it was a boy - mother's death.

 

_**~ * Between Arda & Earth * ~** _

 

A thick white fog surrounded Harry, momentarily blinding and deafening him completely. So completely that the sudden emergence of the familiar voice of his Divination's Professor in her creepy-trance state seemed to echo through his very soul as he heard the words that he somehow knew were tied directly to him:

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…_

_Born to those who have thrice defied him,_

_born as the seventh month dies…_

_And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal,_

_but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…_

_And either must die at the hand of the other_

_for neither can live while the other survives…_

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord_

_will be born as the seventh month dies…_

_(OP37)_

## 

Even after her voice had vanished, and Harry was once again surrounded by that now familiar, thick, white fog, her words echoed through his head. Before he could spare it much thought, the voices of his long-dead parents pierced the fogs, echoing through his head from the very depths of his soul just as they did when Dementors drew too close.

_His father’s voice, “Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! I’ll hold him off!”_

_The sounds of someone stumbling from a room - a door bursting open - a crack of high-pitched laughter-_

_ His mother's voice: "Not Harry! Not Harry! Please - I'll do anything-" _

_ "Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"  _

_“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!”_

_“Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, **now**...”_

_“Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy...Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead–”_

_“ **Avada** **Kedavra!** ”_

_His mother’s scream of agony..._

_Agony..._  
  
~ * **_Caras Galadhon, 98 TA_** * ~~ * ~

 

Lord Celeborn was smiling as he welcomed the young Lord of Imladris into his Realm. It had not been long, to an Elf’s mind, since he had last seen the Peredhil in person, but the younger Eldar had changed much since his days as a Herald of Gil-Galad. Now the Bearer of Vilya, the greatest of the three Elven Rings of Power, and the Lord of Imladris, he had become an elf to be reckoned with, to be sure. “ _You are, of course, most welcome here,_ Heru Elrond,” he offered before nodding gently towards the glade he knew his lady to be hidden within, gazing into her mirror. “Heri nin _was pleased to hear of your decision to visit us, and will be all the more glad to hear of your arrival._ ” [Lord … My Lady]

 

“Hannon le, Heru Celeborn, Haldir,” Elrond nodded, smiling at the elder Elda that had freely offered him helpful counsel so many times in the trying times since Gil-Galad’s death, and the dark decades that preceded that lamentable loss. “ _Tell me, how is–_ ” he stopped abruptly as a sudden scream of pain and anguish came from not far ahead of them. [Thank you, Lord]

 

The scream was followed shortly thereafter by an eruption of eerie green light that felt incredibly evil to the three staggered Elda. This of course woke all of the nearby populace, but the three who’d first heard it paid them no heed as they hurried toward the scream’s origin.  


The trio were more than a little surprised when they came to the grove where the Mirror of Galadriel resided, to see the Lady of Lothlórien herself kneeling by her mirror, her expression one of sheer torture, that deep green light rising from her Mirror.  
  
“Melda nin?” Celeborn called, as he hurried down the steps, followed closely by his arms commander, their guest, and a mere moment later by his anxious daughter, who’d felt her mother’s pained telepathic outcry at the same time as the evil magic burst from the Mirror. [My love?]  
  
Slowly the green light faded and the mirror's surface smoothed over, completely blank. Just as serene and perfect as it had always seemed in dormancy.  
  
“ _What is wrong?_ Melda nin?!” Celeborn continued, catching his wife as she fell away from the Mirror’s pedestal.

 

“Ammë?” Celebrían asked, coming up on her father’s side to take her mother’s hand. “Ammë, _are you well?_ ” [Mother?]

 

The Lady’s deep gasps were all that broke the utter silence that held the clearing for the next several minutes. The normally so untouchable immortal was clearly quite disheveled, with sweat coating her brow, which was tense and creased with pain and worry. Her skin was pale, far more so than usual. And her eyes, cerulean orbs normally filled with incredible compassion, understanding and wisdom, were now teeming with pain, worry and confusion...  
  
~ * **_Galadriel’s P.O.V._** * ~  
  
“Galadriel?”  
  
The Lady of Lothlórien struggled for a moment, before managing to force her eyes open.  
  
“Galadriel?” Celeborn repeated, “Melda nin? _Are you all right?_ ”

  
“Laa, melda nin,” she shook her head, closing her eyes a moment. That had been awful! And he was only a child! ‘ _Seldo!_ ’ She fought back the tears that rose to her eyes at the thought. Her own daughter and only child was now a full grown elf maiden, but that did not make her grief at seeing a youngling harmed any less. [A child!]

 

The Elves longevity did not come without a price. And that price was in the precious few children born to them. While the birth of a child was an almost common occurrence to the other races of Middle Earth, the Elves rarely enjoyed the blessing. Each century a small number of much-loved youths were born to the immortals, and as such, the Elves were very, _very_ protective of their offspring. And growing increasingly more so, as the numbers of youths born in recent centuries had continued to dwindle. Children meant more to them then any other race could possibly understand...  
  
All Elves shared a bond with nature. An empathy with it that bordered on telepathy and some, Galadriel among them, even managed to achieve that ability as well. But all Elves had that ability within their families, making them able to communicate without words or any external signals. It was this gift that often made other races think the Elves uncaring toward one another. Yet, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. And it was a gift that the Elves treasured almost as much as they treasured their children. For it gave them the ability to understand and protect their kin on a level that other races couldn’t begin to comprehend…  
  
But on the rare occurrence that an Elf was killed, their family and friends felt that death on that same level. Which then became a level of torment no other race could understand, nor should they want to…  
  
Galadriel was drawn out of her thoughts by a faint tugging at the back of her mind, which had gone numb after witnessing that atrocious vision and experiencing the child’s torment. It took her a moment to recognize it, and it gave her quite a start when she did. She knew what it was. She knew everything that came to pass into and within her wood.  
  
There was someone new in Lothlórien. Someone who she didn’t recognize, but felt she should, for they felt fairly familiar…  
  
From that, the sorceress started once again.

 

For there was only one person that this could be.  
  
~ * **_Caras Galadhon, 98 TA_** * ~  
  
“Galadriel?” Celeborn asked again, shaking her slightly, then stepping back quickly as she leapt to her feet. “Melda nin? _What is wrong?_ ” [My love?]

  
The Lady of Lothlórien didn’t appear to notice his question, nor did she acknowledge their presence as she hurried from the grove with astonishing speed, her long, abundant white skirts flying around and behind her.

 

This unexpected and unexplained action made Celeborn, Celebrían, Elrond and Haldir trade puzzled looks, before hurrying after her.  
  
~ * **_Borders of Caras Galadon, Harry’s P.O.V., 98 TA_** * ~  


After what seemed to the young wizard an eternity of pain, Harry was finally released.  
  
Harry didn’t have any strength whatsoever. He couldn’t stand any more then he could open his eyes. Consequently, he fell to the ground, completely unconscious.  
  
His brain, exhausted and distressed, didn’t even register that it wasn’t his bedroom floor that he fell to, but the riverbed of a stream, not far from the moss-covered ground of the very old, magical heart of the forest it flowed within.  
  
~ * **_Elves P.O.V._** * ~  


After several minutes’ of rapid pursuit through the forest, the Lord of the Lothlórien, the Lady Celebrían, the Golden Wood's March Warden, and the Lord of Imladris were growing all the more mystified and worried as they hurried after the Lady of Light.  
   
They weren’t far from the inner tree-city’s edge now, which was evidently her intent. That in itself was puzzling, for the Lady hardly ever left the inner wood, choosing instead to keep watch over her realm from within the highly protected walls of her royal hall by the means of powerful enchantments.  


Despite how unusual her actions and supposed destination were, the Lady had not slowed down at all, and in her almost panicked haste her concerned pursuers were able to keep pace with her but couldn’t catch her.  
  
~ * **_Galadriel’s P.O.V._** * ~  
  
Galadriel was breathing in short gasps, which was also quite uncharacteristic of her, as she reached the inner forest’s border, and stopped, her eyes scanning the area. She didn’t even notice when the four who’d been trailing her just barely managed to stop themselves in time to prevent a collision. Nor did she hear Haldir direct the guards that were just behind them to secure the area. What she did see was the body of a young boy, in rather unusual clothes, surrounded by several curious items...

  
She hurried over to them, taking no notice of the four winded elves behind her, or the others that were not far behind.  
  
~ * **_Celebrían P.O.V.,_** * ~  


“Ammë, _what are you—_ ” Seeing that her mother was not paying even a semblance of attention to her, Celebrían quickly redirected her inquiry to the other three ranking Elda that had been at her side as she trailed the Lady of Light. “ _What is she doing?_ ” she asked, still breathing heavily, as they watched her mother step out of the city-forest’s gates and hurry over to the nearby riverside. She blinked when she saw the body her mother was going to kneel beside, “ _What – Who's that?_ ”

 

Celeborn sighed, shaking his head at his daughter’s significant queries, “ _It looks like we have another guest..._ ” He replied before following his wife, with the others in his wake.

  
When they reached Galadriel and their ‘new guest’, they found the Lady of Lothlórien kneeling by his sighed, murmuring words of healing while cradling the young boy’s head in her lap.  
  
“E atan?” [A man?] Celebrían murmured, surprised. At the other Eldars’ nods of agreement, the Elven princess shook her head. “ _How ever did he get here? And what would a human be doing here? He looks no older than a child!_ ”

 

“ _He is a child..._ ”

  
All four nobles jumped in surprise at the Lady’s sudden speech.  
  
“ _You know him,_ melda nin?”  Celeborn asked with a frown.

  
“ _I do,_ ” Galadriel nodded, “ _He is a child, but not Atan..._ ”

  
“Hwæt?”  Celebrían blinked, sharing a confused looked with the handsome Elven lord her father had been welcoming to the wood a few long minutes before. “Dan… _What else could he be?_ ” [What? But…]

 

“ _He is_ Istari.” [a Wizard]

  
~ * **_Within Caras Galadon, Healers’ Ward_** * ~  
  
“Dan...” Celebrían shook her head, as she watched her father gently set their newest guest in bed. “Dan, _he's just_... _seldo_... _He_ –” [But, ...a child...]

 

“ _He is not of our world..._ ” Galadriel replied softly, shaking her head to forestall anymore of her confused daughter’s questions. “ _In his world, there are many wizards, and they begin training very young...._ ” She stopped, and turned toward the bed where her husband had placed their young charge only a few spare moments before.

 

A moment later, the boy moaned, and after several moments of silent struggle with exhaustion, opening his eyes, which were greener than the leaves of the Eryn Lasgalen had been before the tainted Mirkwood came into being.

 

When those vivid green eyes finally turned towards her, the Lady of Light smiled gently, and greeted him. “Welcome to Lothlórien, Harry Potter.”


	2. Manar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap of the story, thus far: At midnight, on his fifteenth birthday, Harry made a wish on a wizarding birthday cake, sent to him by the Weasleys. He wanted to escape the agony Voldemort's resurrection was bringing about in both pressure and pain, and he wanted to feel safe and loved. The wish sent him to Middle Earth. At the same time, while her husband was welcoming their son-in-law and only granddaughter to their home, Galadriel of Lothlórien looking into her mirror and witnessed the death of the Potters, the first fall of Voldemort and the rise of 'the Boy-Who-Lived.' After suffering the amplified the agony the mirror reflected from the failed 'killing curse' through to her, Galadriel realized that the boy she had envisioned had been sent to Arda, landing just along her land's borders...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedication: To everyone on the TandBA mailing list that waited so long for this, and offered to help with only a little opposition.

_**Elda Kundu, Kurutar** _

**_There And Back Again:_ **

**Part I – A Wizard’s Tale**

_A Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings Crossover_

_**Chapter 1: Manar** _

By Jess S

 

~ * **_Caras Galadon, 118 TA, Early Winter_** * ~

 

It was early morning, the suns rays having just appeared on the horizon, just barely piercing the leafy treetops of Caras Galadon, mingling with the quiet mist that embraced the ancient trees, which were outlined by tiny, glimmering Elvish lights.  
  
However, one person had risen some time before and now stood on a balcony to his personal chambers, high up in the treetops, watching as the Galadhrim woke. He appeared perfectly comfortable with his surroundings, as though he belonged there.  
  
That in itself was peculiar. For Caras Galadon, often called ‘the heart of Elvendom on Earth’, was the home of the Elves of Lothlórien, ruled by Galadriel, one of the three Elven Ring Bearers and her husband, Celeborn. The Elves, an immortal people, rarely welcomed mortals into their homes. They were gracious hosts; courteous and wise to the point of which most mortals could not comprehend. But it hurt them to watch youth leave the faces and forms of mortal friends. It hurt to know that any such friends would be lost within a time frame that was to them little more than the blink of an eye. Some mortals lived longer than others, others less, but they all fell to the Gift of Man eventually. It was for that reason that humans rarely set foot amongst the Galadhrim. It was also why Lothlórien’s borders were well protected against such an occurrence, both by Elven guards and the encouraged dispersion of the mystifying tales that were spread amongst the mortals, increasing their already numerous suspicions and keeping them away from the ancient sanctuary.  


At first glance, you could undoubtedly mistake the man for one of the Elven race. He bore the innate grace, elegance and charm the Elves were famed for. His face and form displayed all-too-apparent youth, but his eyes held some of the wisdom that can only come with age and experience. He even had the radiant, elegantly sculpted features and carefully proportioned, honed muscles the Elves prided themselves on.

 

But he was certainly not an elf.

 

He had changed since his coming to the eldest people of Middle Earth, true. He wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived anymore; for he wasn't really a boy at all, as young as he was by Elven standards. He had lived amongst the Galadhrim for nigh on twenty years: ageless, but not unchanging.

 

His apparent immortality had been a point of great interest for the Elven people who had so kindly taken him in, healed him, sheltered him, and helped him become accustom to the strange world his heart-felt wish had brought him to on his fifteenth birthday. Renowned for their scholarly skills, Elrond of Imladris and Celeborn of Lothlórien had not disappointed when they had been presented with this puzzle. Until he found a way to return native world – which he hadn't, yet – there was no way to really be sure which of their theories were correct. But the theory that withstood the most scrutiny thus far had been proposed by Elrond, after dozens of other theories had already been discounted. He reasoned that because Harry – or Elerossë, as the Elves had named him – was not truly a creature of Arda, the passage of time on Arda shouldn't affect him. Two decades of agelessness seemed to validate the theory.

 

Now thirty-five, and not quite as homesick as he had been all those years before, Elerossë watched as his adoptive-kin rose to greet the dawn, as they always seemed to do.

 

Life with the Galadhrim had certainly proved to be different from anything Elerossë had seen before coming to this world. The splendor and senescence of Hogwarts faded before the ages that the majestic Lothlórien had literally stood and grown, along with the grace being an Elven haven had entitled it to possess. The Elves of the Golden Wood themselves were always kind to him, the gentle compassion his various tutors in the Elven languages and customs had shown, along with the respect they were all to happy to share with him had smoothed away much of the nervousness that his lacking upbringing with his relatives had left him. He was still learning, but his time with the elves had taught him a great deal, and he had grown, if a bit slowly. He knew he had a long way to go, which in truth only showed how much he _had_ grown. But whether or not his future was completely within the Elven realm was up for debate.

 

This was because it wasn't long after his arrival that the rulers of Lothlórien had chosen to adopt him, as he was only a child in both his own world and theirs, and needed a place to truly call ‘home’ in their world. So they had given him a home, and gladly.

 

They had also chosen to not only foster him, but fully adopt him: formal blood ritual and all. That ritual had not changed much, but it had allowed him to feel an innate connection to all the Eldar, his adoptive family especially. It had also given him some Elven traits, not the ears, but his skin looked distinctly elven in appearance, he even glowed whenever he was especially happy – or anywhere near his foster-family for some unexplained reason. He’d also gained about two whole inches in the week following the ritual, a change that had mercifully occurred while he was sleeping. He also didn’t think he was as sensitive to heat and cold as he used to be, though he didn’t really know for sure. In contrast, all of his other senses were noticeably sharper, and like all the Eldar he now had a distinctive empathetic connection to nature – all growing things – and he could hear the songs of the trees as well as the birds.

 

It had taken Lord Celeborn a little more time to get used to the idea of being a father to a teenage-wizard, but he had gradual warmed to the idea. Galadriel, after witnessing some flashes of his life with her Sight and the formation of strong a telepathic bond during his coming to Middle Earth had taken to him immediately. Their daughter, Celebrían had been much the same. It had been an interesting experience, becoming part of a real, loving family. Similar to the hominess he felt with the Weasleys, but deeper... and, honestly, more his own. He could easily see how Ron felt overshadowed by his abundance of older siblings, and while such a large family was certainly fun, it was not the way he would choose to live himself. The small, close, loving relationship he shared with his new Elven family was much more to his taste, and was quite welcome in helping him adjust to this strange new world.

 

Of course, interestingly enough, the Elf his Elven-sister had ended up marrying had just arrived in Lothlórien to visit with the Lord and Lady the day Harry arrived, so he got to know Elrond even as his new foster sister was falling in love with the Elven lord. Their wedding, which took place a little over two years after his arrival, was a memory he would cherish for a long time come... Though on days like this he really did miss his big sister...

 

He had thought of visiting with Celebrían and Elrond in Imladris, but his parents weren’t willing to even consider it until they were sure he was completely adjusted to this world. Harry sometimes thought they really believed he might just wake up one day and not be able to breathe the alien air or something like that, from how protective they were. Of course, to Elven standards three-and-half centuries was still rather young, and Elves were very protective of the few youths that lived among them. And to be fair, he knew from his studies that there were many dangers in this world, not the least of this were the Dark Lord’s primary soldiers: the Orcs of Mordor, which had plagued the lands around the Golden Wood for decades, sometimes even attacking in force, but more often than not preying on those that traveled in small parties between realms.

 

Taking all of that into account, he also had to add the fact that when his rather protective guardians made him a part of their family, he had become someone to the Elves; a son to Celeborn and Galadriel, and a brother to Celebrían and Elrond, but more than that to the Galadhrim as a whole. When the rulers of the Golden Wood had offered him a proper home amongst the Elves they had, in fact, made him one of Middle Earth’s Elven royals. Not many people knew of this fact. His identity, and everything about him, was one of the Golden Wood’s most well kept secrets. In Middle Earth, outside of the Elves of Lothlórien themselves, Lord Elrond, his family and council, no one knew of his existence. And that was the way his foster parents wanted to keep it. Indefinitely. Which meant that he really should not leave the well protected borders of the Golden Wood.

 

But... in his world a thirty-five-year-old wizard would be entitled to do whatever they wished with their lives! And with Hermione’s _Hogwarts Library Compilation_ , combined with the tutelage Galadriel, Celeborn and several Galadhrim scholars had been happy to offer him he was a _very_ well-educated wizard. A wizard who wanted to see the world...  


“ _Good morning,_ Elerossë.” A familiar, radiant voice greeted him as its owner drew near.

  
Harry turned and smiled as the Lady of Lothlórien came up beside him. “Good morning, Naneth.” He replied, while bowing respectfully, as he had been taught and felt was proper. His Elven name, Elerossë, had been chosen for him by the very lady that stood before him now, who he addressed as both respected and beloved mother. (Mother)

  
It had taken some time, nearly all of the past few decades, but after a great deal of studying and practice, with the help of his new friends and family, Harry had in fact managed to learn the languages and customs of the Eldar… And had come to accept them as his own.  
  
“ _Are you well, ion nîn?_ ” Galadriel asked, her silver-blue eyes gazing into his searchingly. (my son)

  
That was another thing that had been another change for the young wizard to adjust to when he first came here. Before no one could really meet his gaze, at least not so directly, because his glasses always got in the way. But said glasses had been broken on his brutal ride to Arda, leaving him nearly blind. That had taken a bit of explaining, as he had not reacted very well when he had awoken in the Elven city, to be greeted by the Lady of Light herself; who was at the time, to him, a strange glowing being that he could barely see and whose voice he did not recognize. However, once they realized that Harry really couldn’t see anything, the Elves had endeavored to change that... and succeeded. Through the combined skills of Lady Galadriel and her soon-to-be son-in-law, the knowledge of Lord Celeborn, and the support of Lady Celebrían, Harry had been given flawless vision, and had been able to truly see the Elves with it only a few days after his initial awakening.  
  
“ _Fine,_ hannon le,” He replied quietly. (thank you)  
   
The Lady of Light raised a silvery eyebrow. “Ai?” She asked, holding his gaze. <Oh?>  
   
After a moment, Harry looked away.  
  
Lady Galadriel sighed, and shook her head, “ _Please don't hide inside yourself,_ _Elerossë._ ” She beseeched him quietly, extending her pale hand and gently turning his head towards her, to meet his eyes once more. " _You should know by now that it is not really possible. And it only brings suffering._ "

  
After a moment, Harry nodded. “ _Of course, Nana, forgive me._ " (Mom)  
  
“Ú-moe edhored.” Galadriel replied softly, releasing him. " _Now tell me,_ " she continued. " _What is bothering you?_ " <There is nothing to forgive.>

  
Harry sighed, shaking his head. “ _I don’t know…_ " he replied, sincerely. " _I feel... lost... no... not lost, only..._ "

  
" _Misplaced?_ " his foster mother offered.

  
Immediately, he shook his head, “ _I suppose,_ ” he sighed, " _I... I don’t know..._ "

  
Galadriel sighed, offering a sad smile. " _It is only natural that you feel out of place here, Elerossë._ " She offered. “ _There is nothing wrong with that._ "

  
Harry shook his head, " _I know... but it really isn’t that... I got over my homesickness a long time ago..._ "

 

She continued to watch him for several minutes before sighing, and shaking her head. " _Then perhaps you simply feel trapped **here**._ " She raised a hand to forestall his protest, " _It is quite natural. In fact, it only makes you **more** like us... Some of our people experience a similar feeling._ " The Lady of Light sighed, meeting her foster son’s vivid eyes, so unlike any she’d ever seen before, a treasure beyond compare, hiding the pain she knew he hid deep within his mind. “ _Travel may well help you... If I recall correctly, you expressed an interest in seeing the rest of Middle Earth not too long ago? Or visiting your sister?_ "

 

After a moment of contemplation he nodded, meeting his foster mother's eyes with his birth mother's dominant innate feature filled with hopefulness.

 

The Bearer of Nenya sighed, and after a few minutes of inner contemplation, she too nodded and offered him a kind, understanding smile as she replied. " _Very well, I will discuss the matter with my lord husband..._ "

 

Which meant, Harry knew, that unless she saw some horrible doom for him in her mirror, he would undoubtedly be allowed to explore the land outside The Wood in a short while...

 

~ * **_Caras Galadon, 118 TA, Early Winter_** * ~

 

A few days later Lothlórien’s March Warden bowed deeply to his Lord and Lady, accepting the task they offered him. " _I would be honored to accompany our prince, my lady._ "

 

Galadriel nodded, smiling slightly. " _Thank you, Haldir..._ " she then turned her eyes to her foster son, " _I hope you find what you’re looking for, my son._ " She murmured, bending down slightly to place a gentle kiss on his brow, right above his scar. "Namárië…" <Farewell>

 

Celeborn offered his foster son a soft smile also, only a slight amount of doubt visible in his well-controlled visage as be nodded to him, before turning to Haldir and offering him a few short words, too quietly for Elerossë to hear, but of which he didn't doubt consisted of something along the lines of 'guard him well' and possibly 'safe journey.'

 

A short time later, Harry and his friend – and undoubtedly guardian, Harry was actually surprised his foster parents hadn’t insisted on a full company of guards – left their home, and proceeded north, toward Imladris, as his quest to learn more of the world he was coming to accept as home, began.

 

~ * **_Imladris, 119 TA, Mid-Winter_** * ~

 

" _Welcome to Imladris, Heru_ _Elerossë,_ " the Lord of Imladris offered with a kind, welcoming smile as both the young wizard and his much older guardian reached his house's steps some weeks later. " _It is an honor to offer you accommodation within these walls. And you as well, Haldir Dorthon o Lórien_."

 

"Hannon le, Heru Elrond," Harry offered in return as both he and his companion of the last few months bowed respectfully, their right hands over their hearts. “ _Is Celebrían here?_ ” he asked, looking around in puzzlement. He'd been looking forward to seeing his foster-sister, and courtesy to equals preferred her attendance now…yet she were nowhere to be seen. <Thank you, Lord Elrond,>

 

His brother-in-law sighed, shaking his head. “ _I am afraid you chose an unfortunate time to arrive... Unfortunate in that you are several days earlier than we were expecting. Did you, per chance, encounter a company of Elves from here on your way in? They left for Lothlórien only a few days ago._ ”

 

“ _No, sorry. We took a rather round about way of getting here..._ ” Harry replied, very pointedly _not_ looking at his guardian, who was probably still annoyed at the number to times Harry had actually managed to get the great March Warden lost on a route he had undertaken hundreds of times before. The idea Harry had remembered from Earth, which he’d tried to win Haldir over with, of the journey being more important than the destination, didn’t seem to satisfy him.

 

Elrond’s lips twitched slightly as he sensed an obvious story behind the response, but seeing the clearly disgruntled look on the long-time March Warden’s face, he refrained from asking at that point in time and shook his head. “ _Quite all right, of course. I only ask because they were actually instructed to stall you if they did meet you. Celebrían has been putting together a welcoming celebration for you, and has been quite insistent that she manage all of it personally. I sent a servant to see if she might relinquish command to one of our advisors in order to come greet you, but we shall have to wait and see what she—_ ” he stopped as they heard the sound of approaching, hurried footsteps.

 

A moment later the Elven-Lady they’d been speak of emerged from the main entrance to the House of Elrond, her glowing beauty undimmed by the texture the rush had offered her gown and hair. If anything, her charm was only enhanced by the dazzling smile on her face and in her eyes. "Elerossë! Onooro nin! Suilaid!" she offered while hurrying forward to capture him in an affectionate embrace. <My brother! Greetings!>

 

"Mára aurë, Celebrían _,_ " Harry returned with an equally bright smile. His foster-sister and her husband had been among those who’d gone to _great_ lengths to welcome him to Arda, and she’d devoted a great deal of time to educating him in the Elven traditions, the histories of Middle Earth, and whatnot. But, unlike his tutors, who'd all treated him as 'the young foster son of their Lord and Lady’; she'd treated him as a baby brother, an equal and a friend after a fashion...for which he was grateful. It was one of the things that had made him understand just how possible it was to form a friendship with someone so strong that it might endure eternity's many trials...   <Hello,>

 

~ * **_Imladris, 119-146 TA_** * ~

 

Happy to have a new haven to explore, and to see Celebrían and Elrond again, Harry hadn’t been all that hard to convince into settling in Imladris for quite some time.

 

It was not time that he regretted spending at all, having enjoyed it immensely. He had been pushed into continuing his studies, both scholastically and in the arts of war, but even that had been enjoyable. All of his tutors, being members of Lord Elrond’s close council, knew who he was and had been happy to instruct him. On the infrequent occasions Haldir chose to report back to Celeborn and Galadriel, Harry trained with Glorfindel, the Arms Commander of Imladris, regularly and with Elrond from time to time as well. He had improved much under their tutelage, for which he didn’t doubt his bodyguard was grateful. Not that he could blame him, Harry really had been a fool to wander off on him and get caught by Arda’s brand of Acromantula not long after they had left the protection of the Golden Wood. He did hope, though, that this training would help Haldir outgrow the over-protective phase he was currently quite comfortable in, at least enough to give Harry a little more space to grow in on his own.

 

Harry had initially been planning on setting out from the House of Elrond after about two decades, figuring that spending the same amount of time there as he had in Lothlórien was only fair, but Celebrían had foiled those plans. Nevertheless, he was more than happy to stay in Imladris a bit longer after his foster-sister announced that she and Elrond were expecting in the one-hundred and thirty-eighth year of the Third Age. In the next year of the Age, she gave birth to twins; two little terrors the Valley would learn to both love and love to hate in years to come as they made their place on Middle Earth much the same way the Weasley twins had done back on the Wizarding part of Harry’s Earth, as pranksters. Still, the experience of acting as an Uncle to two young Elflings kept him occupied and content for several more years.

 

Nonetheless, he still wanted to see more of the world, so shortly after Elladan and Elrohir’s sixth birthday, Harry was allowed to move on once Haldir had returned to guard him. His brother-in-law’s House had held many more things to entertain the young wizard, as it served a resting place for many travelers, and thereby allowed him to meet many new friends, particularly after the Elves of Imladris realized that he was, in fact, _not_ mortal. Though his origins were still a closely guarded secret to all but a select few, he had remained the picture of youth throughout the whole of his stay, as well as an obviously much-loved friend of the House of Elrond, and as such had eventually been wholly accepted and welcomed by all of the valley’s immortal residents. He had also chosen to spend so much time in this particular Elven sanctuary out of  a desire to meet some of this world’s wizards, recently come to Middle Earth from Valinor with the dawning of the Third Age*, as a few of them did frequent Lord Elrond’s hospitality from time to time. Alas, none visited Imladris in the decades he resided there, so he finally chose to move on once more, after allowing his brother-in-law to extract a promise that should he meet the Istari Mithrandir on his journeys throughout Middle Earth, Harry would not explain the puzzle his very existence presented, and would make the old Istari work for the answers he would certainly seek.

 

Mindful of how protective his bodyguard still was of him, Harry allowed Elrond to assign a detail of guards to protect him, hoping that doing so would help put Haldir’s unease to rest if only a little bit. So with Haldir and said detail of guards shadowing his every move, he had continued his exploration of Middle Earth. Under the watchful eye of his guards, and assisted by the guidance they were willing to offer, he met the mortal men of this world, along with many wonders outside of the Elven realms. More accustom to the wonders of the mortals and their lands, the Elves of Imladris had proved invaluable guides in the early years of their exploration, as they knew of many great wonders in nature, architecture and myths, and were quite happy to help him find them and enjoy them as well. They also helped him greatly improve his skills as a hunter, as only experience can, and had introduced him to some of the world’s longer-lived mortals, the Dúnedain or Rangers, who were also excellent teachers in this area of expertise.

 

After several more years of travel, Harry had almost managed to convince the proud and protective March Warden that he could return home and leave Harry to look after himself when they entered the village of Bree. While Haldir was honestly considering it, they had visited the Hobbits of the Shire. As if set in motion by Fate to demonstrate Harry’s poor luck, they would not remain in the Shire long, because shortly after they arrived, they found it under attack by a band of Orcs, and very nearly saved the Halflings single-handedly with a combination of Haldir’s outright skill in combat and Harry’s magic. They would undoubtedly have been welcome for quite some time after that, as heroes, but Harry still didn’t like bearing the mark of a hero and all that went along with it, so they very quickly moved on once more.*

 

From there they mostly wandered, passing Imladris entirely due to Harry’s desire to continue exploring. Haldir was quite relieved when his young lord decided to forgo attempting the Pass of Caradhas in favor of exploring the Gap of Rohan* and the lands of the Horse lords. Though relations between men and elves were still fairly tense in these times, they found themselves welcome in the hall of Rohan’s king, for the short time they chose to remain, before taking the west road to the city of Osgiliath.

 

Entranced by the seemingly hidden magicks that surround the capital and chief city of Gondor*, Harry chose to live amongst its people along the bands of the Great River for many months. During that time he’d placed a magical disguise on Haldir to avoid questions, and was surprised to find that holding the fairly complex bit of spell work up for a fairly prolonged period of time no longer tired him at all. After a few months however, he was drawn into one of the City of Men’s conflicts, and chose to leave the city with a small army – and a deeply disproving bodyguard in tow – to march towards the borders of Mordor and drive back the increasingly large number of Orcs that were spilling through the Black Gate.*

 

~ * **_The_** **_Morannon_** **_of Mordor, 151 TA_** * ~

 

It was an evil thing, to be sure. Harry could feel the evil magic that resonated from the black gates and the land beyond them. He could sense the dormant power of the wicked land’s enduring lord, as well, just as he realized he’d always been able to sense the very existence of Voldemort, to a somewhat lesser extent.

 

Sauron was not Voldemort. He knew this. His world’s Dark Lord and the creator of the Ring of Power were two very different beings, though similar in some ways.

 

He knew from the feel of that enduring, wicked power, that the Lord of the Rings would eventually return to continue his destructive quest. How and when were not truly important. It would happen. And with it would begin a war the likes of which he doubted his world had _ever_ seen. The Muggle World Wars might compare, but those were still wars between different factions of men, short bouts of bloodshed between varying factions of one petulant race. Those wars were not wars between different races all fighting for their right to exist. That in a way made Voldemort a better comparison, if only because he was exterminating whole races and species while still trying to ‘improve’ upon the human race through genocide. But still, not the same. Never the same.

 

This realization struck him deeply, and was what finally convinced him to let Haldir lead him home after several skirmishes between the army of men and the Orcs of Mordor over the course of a few months time. So they bid their farewells to their comrades before making their way to the place their journey had begun many years before. His amusement at Haldir’s obvious relief at both leaving the company of men and appearing as himself once more barely managed to relieve the darkness his recent experiences and expectations had shadowed his soul with.

 

~ * **_Lothlórien, 152 TA, Spring_** * ~

 

By the time they had returned the safety of Caras Galadon, to his foster-family and people’s great joy, Harry was beyond weary and wanted nothing more but to rest within the well-protected sanctuary’s peaceful city for a time. This pleased his foster-mother greatly. She had been watching him in her mirror as best she could, but hadn’t stopped worrying about the son of her heart until the day he returned to her embrace more than three decades after he’d last left it.

 

Still, she did not doubt that his spirit would want to wander again in the not too far future, and she would let him; for she had seen how much his first journey had helped him grow and mature as years of isolation within her realm could not.

 

For many years, Harry was content to live in the peaceful Elven Haven, only traveling once beyond its borders to become a guest of the House of Elrond once more for several years, starting in 241 TA shortly before the birth of his niece. When he returned to Lothlórien a few years afterwards, he remained well within its borders, as his first journey had taught him to value the serenity and security of his foster-family’s realm.

 

Much of that time he spent considering his fate in both Middle Earth and his own Earth, which he knew he had to return to. Having already acquainted his family with the prophecy he knew tied him to Voldemort, they too had accepted that he would one day need to return. It was one of the reasons they’d been so insistent on both educating him, training him _and_ protecting him. Though they’d certainly both guarded his innocence and prepared him for his destiny better than Dumbledore had apparently cared too, he did not know for sure if he would ever be ready to return.

 

Oh, he’d made many preparations for that very return. After only a few short months there, Galadriel and Celeborn had begun helping him learn how to meditate, and he’d soon made use of the _Alitum Globe_ that Ginny Weasley had given him for his fifteenth birthday. But not in the way Ginny had obviously intended. For he had ended up storing all that he could remember of the first fifteen years of his life in the little penseive, so that he might refresh his memories before returning to that life. It had been a trying feet, to be sure, but would undoubtedly prove to have been worth it when the time came to leave Middle Earth.

 

Thoughts of returning clouded his mind frequently if he was not careful to distract himself. His foster family were quick to steer such thoughts away with careful, concerned counsel – which Galadriel could give both in person and from a distance telepathically. None of the elves were ever content to let him brood for long. His foster father was ever on a quest to educate his Wizarding foster-son to the best of his – indisputably great – abilities. Galadriel always kept at least one eye on him. As, he suspected, did most of the Galadhrim, though the thought didn’t truly bother him as it once had. Under such constant care and supervision, brooding wasn’t really ever an option for long. Especially if he didn’t want to upset his foster-mother, who always noticed.

 

So he did his best to keep his mind active and entertained. There were plenty of ways to do so, after all. There were his scholarly studies under Celeborn’s care, and his tutelage in the arts of healing with Galadriel, Elrond, or some of the other Galadhrim’s healers. Training, he found was a particularly good way to ward them off. Whether it was with Haldir and the other warriors of the Golden Wood, who were always more than happy to train with him, or training his magic. Whatever it took, such gloomy thoughts never held his mind for long when they came. But they did come. Even under the peaceful boughs of the fair Mallorns.

 

Even that peace, however, was soon broken by the arrival of his foster-sister and several other Elves from Imladris. Only a few decades younger than him, his twin nephews were true pranksters at heart, though they were generally rather well-behaved in their grandparents’ realm. His niece was a little angel that all the Elves were quite happy to dote on, for she was the youngest Elfling currently residing upon Middle Earth and thus the child of them all. He had been overjoyed to see Celebrían and Elrond again, but had been rather startled when she introduced him to the ladies that had accompanied her to her parent’s realm...

 

~ * **_Lothlórien, 253 TA, Summer_** * ~

 

“ _Really,_ _onooro_ _nîn,_ ” Celeborn and Galadriel’s daughter laughed as she led her adoptive brother and her own dear friend up into the branches of one of Caras Galadhon’s many telan, this one the host to her friends and ladies-maids that had traveled hear with her from Imladris. “ _It has not been that long!_ ”  <my brother>

 

“ _Most mortals would argue otherwise, melin onoone_ ,” Harry pointed out with a small smile.  <dear sister>

 

“ _But we have long established that you are **not** mortal! As you are still arguing with me centuries after you first came into our world!_ ”

 

Harry smiled more widely than before, but did not reply as movement on the landing outside their destination’s entryway caught his eye, and he felt his breath catch in his throat as his eyes locked with another’s pair from above.

 

Violet hued starlight... Elven eyes, still holding some of the light of the newborn stars the earliest of the Eldar had witnessed when they first came into being on Arda, but tinted amethyst instead of the far more common silver... starlight in the early twilight, rather than deep night.

 

He was drawn out of his captivation when he was lightly jostled around, forcing him to grab onto the railing of the telan’s ascending stairwell even though the firm grip his sister had on his shoulder would undoubtedly have kept him from falling. He shook his head as he forced himself to not look past her and instead to meet her worried silver gaze and realize that she had clearly been trying to get his attention for some time.

 

“...nin? Elerossë! _Are you well,_ onooro nîn?” Celebrían’s voice was not quite frantic, but very clearly worried, as were her slightly darkened eyes.  <my brother?>

 

Seeing this – and finally making the mental connection to be concerned himself by this – he forced himself to meet her gaze steadily, “ _Yes, Celebrían, I am well._ ” He offered as he shook his head and offered her a slight, diffident smile. “ _I’m sorry. My mind wandered._ ”

 

The Lady of Imladris continued to hold his gaze for several long moments, before she nodded in acceptance, though there was still a slight frown upon her brow. “ _Quite alright, onooro nîn. No one is perfect, after all, least of all you._ ” Before he could reply in outrage or otherwise she finally turned and hurried up the last few steps to the landing, smiling in greeting to the ladies who awaited them there. Nonetheless, half of her attention was still upon him as he slowly completely the journey to the veranda himself.

 

Harry noticed this, but paid it little mind as his eyes returned to the vibrant gaze that had so captivated him moments before.

 

The lady said eyes belonged to had not moved either, had barely even nodded politely in greeting at the lady’s arrival. Her enchanting eyes were set in a heart-shaped face that was flawless and radiant, as was common to Elven kind. More common than her eyes, but still unique was the dark tresses* that were drawn partially away from the fair face into many more of the intricate Elven braids than he could ever find the patience for with his own hair. _*_

 

She was a beauty, to be sure. Perhaps one of the fairest maidens in the Elven realm, even when standing alongside the Lady of Light’s daughter, she had her own brilliance. More than her dark hair and vivid violet eyes, though. There was something else there. Something charismatic and enchanting that touched his very soul.

 

He was hesitant to give it any more thought than that, as he neared the vision on the moonlit balcony. For though it was clearly something she had felt too, if the faint but nonetheless unusual blush gracing her fair cheeks was any indication, it was not something he could fully grasp.

 

The feelings coursing threw him were not lust. _That_ was something he had experienced to some degree while traveling throughout Middle Earth. The first, embarrassing episode was also something that his guards from Imladris had taken great pleasure in poking fun at after they had left the tavern where he’d made one more step along the path to adulthood. It had been much later in actual life than was common among his own mortal, wizard kind, but he had been raised among elves and had therefore been raised to their standards... under which he had been a child well into the end of his first century. But that wasn’t what this was.

 

It was closer to what he had felt when he first found out he was a wizard. When Hagrid had introduced him to Diagon Alley and he had first waved his wand. A _connection_ of sorts, though something greater still... Greater even than the sense of homecoming he’d always felt upon returning to Hogwarts year after year.

 

“...‘Erossë!” Celebrían’s half-annoyed, half-amused voice once again forced him back to the waking world, and to where his adoptive-kin stood beside the captivating lady.

 

“ _S-sorry, Celebrían,_ ” Harry apologized once again.

 

Celebrían nodded, raising an eyebrow. “ _Your mind is wandering quite a bit today..._ ” she shook her head before he could apologize again. “Dan, _I still want you to meet my friends from Imladris._ ” She nodded to the lady farthest from her on the balcony. “ _May I introduce Lady_ _Órelindë Silimaurë?_ ”

 

“Mae govannen,” Harry stepped forward and bowed slightly to place a slight kiss on the back of the lady’s hand, and continued to do so with various salutations along the way until he finally reached the violet-eye lady beside his foster-kin.

 

“ _And finally, may I introduce Lady_ _Ránewen Galathil, who is a kinswoman to the brothers Dorthon?_ ”

 

Again Harry moved forward, feeling as though he were certainly in a dream as he bowed and raised the lady’s hand to his lips, before rising to meet her eyes once more. “Luhta _,_ Heri Galathil,” <Enchanted, Lady Galathil,> he offered with a small hesitant smile.

 

“ _My lord, please call me Ránëwén_.”

 

“ _Gladly, my lady, but then you must return the favor._ ” He replied with a small smile, “Im Elerossë.”

 

“Mae govannen, Elerossë-tur.” < _Well-met, Lord Elerossë_ >

 

“ _No, no,_ ” he shook his head, not noticing that he had yet to release her hand. “ _Just_ Elerossë _, please,_ ” he insisted, to be rewarded with a brilliant smile and a less faint blush.

 

Too caught up in their own thoughts, neither noticed the speculative gleam that had entered his sister’s bright eyes as she watched them, even as the other ladies, already tired from their travels, had already begun to withdraw, having only temporarily forestalled the time to meet their friend’s famous foster-kin.

 

After what could have been an eternity all in a few short moments, they were drawn back to the conscious world from some slight noise down below the telan. It was then that Harry noticed he was still holding the Lady Ránewen’s hand. Elegant and slight, it fit easily and comfortably in his hand, even as the touch of her skin on his was unnaturally warming, almost electric, but so very right...

 

It was strange...this rightness. This absolute certainty that something was right. Even Hogwarts had never been so sure. Nothing in his life had been. And thus... it felt strange, but not, necessarily, bad.

 

“ _Perhaps we should all turn in for the night?_ ” Celebrían’s voice drew him out of his thoughts, as it apparently affected Ránewen similarly, bringing their attention to her. “ _It was a rather long journey._ ”

 

“ _Oh – Yes! Yes, of course. You must be exhausted._ ” Harry nodded, finally forcing himself to relinquish the gentle grasp he’d had on the violet-eyed lady’s hand. “ _Sleep well,_ Heri Ránewen,” he offered with a bow, nodding to Celebrían as she head down the stairs ahead of him, without paying much mind to the calculative look on her face as he stole one last look at her fair friend before forcing himself to begin the descent back to the forest floor. He was halted halfway down in his hurried descent by a hesitant inquiry from above.

 

“ _M-My lord?_ ” the lady called, leaning over the telan’s shimmering rail to meet his gaze once more, “ _Perhaps we might meet again in the morning?_ ” she asked, more sure but still hesitant at the end of her inquiry.

 

Harry took a deep breath, willing his voice steady before calling up to her with a smile, “ _I would like that very much, my lady..._ ”

 

“ _In the morning then?_ ”

 

“ _Yes, gladly._

 

After a moment of weighted silence, Celebrían’s voice came up from the forest floor, sounding somewhat dry, “Maar mori.” < _Good night._ >

 

With a start both echoed her hurriedly, before turning to go separate directions, small half-smiles on their faces.

 

~~~

 

They had gone slowly at first; ignoring the pull of this strange – but oh-so-right – bond they shared in favor of getting to know one another. With an abundance of romantic getaways all about the boughs of shining trees with glittering leaves and charming songs echoing dreamily through the air around them, the Golden Wood was an ideal location for a budding romance to blossom.

 

It had helped that his foster family seemed to heartily approve of the match, pushing them together at every chance they could. Even Arwen, in her infinite wisdom achieved after all of twelve years of life, had hinted at it a few times, and though it was strange to hear, each hint was appreciated nonetheless.

 

However, as the air began to chill, Harry grew to realize that he could not really bring himself to fully accept this romance right way. Though he felt nothing but great joy whenever he was graced with his fair lady’s presence, the idea of marrying her or even taking steps in that direction almost seemed like he was giving up on returning to his native world. And as much as he loved Ránewen and her Arda, he was needed back on his Earth. It was something he’d long ago accepted, and it wasn’t something he was willing to give up on.

 

Despite the fact that he felt drawn to Ránewen like nothing he’d ever felt before, despite the comfort and happiness he drew from her very presence, he wasn’t ready to let himself feel that strange need and emotion. Not yet.

 

So he left again...

 

~ * **_Lothlórien, 253 TA, Autumn_** * ~

 

“Nah gwannatha sin o heri lîn?” Galadriel asked of her foster son as she watched him slip out of his telan in the light of the only just risen sun, dressed and lightly packed for travel as Haldir had taught him some centuries before. <Is this how you would take your leave of your lady?>

 

Harry sighed as he turned to place a gentle kiss on his foster mother’s cheek, and accept the comforting hug she offered. “Edhored, amil nin.” <Forgive me, mother.>

 

Galadriel caught the wizard’s chin as he pulled away, holding him in place. “ _No, I am not the lady you are neglecting,_ Elerossë,” she offered, her voice still gentle but holding a small note of the disapproval he could see in her eyes and the slight frown that was pulling at her lips.

 

This drew another sigh from the still young wizard as he pulled away, “ _Let it be,_ amil nin.”

 

“ _No, ion nin,_ ” the Lady of Light shook her head, finally allowing the frown that she had been suppressing to unhappily grace her face. “ _It pains me to watch you flee and hide from love and happiness._ ”

 

“ _It is not for me._ ”

 

“ _Mankoi?_ ” < _Why?_ >

 

“ _Because..._ ” Harry shook his head, unexpected anger rising within him at the question. “ _This is not my world! I cannot say here forever!_ ”

 

At this the Lady of Light actually winced, before millenia of experience and wisdom came forth to help her supress the burst of pain this thought brought so that she could continue to counsel her son in the dilemma she could clearly see his destiny was placing him in. “ _I know, my son. We all know that you must leave eventually..._ ”

 

Harry sighed, shaking his head as moved a little further away once more, struggling to draw up the inner strength he needed to defy his foster mother’s wishes and leave, as he knew he must. Just as he started to walk away, she continued, making him stop out of respect once more.

 

“ _But why must you flee from us now?_ ” After several moments of clearly troubled silence, Galadriel shook her head. “ _I know you love your world,_ Elerossë. _But do we not also have your love?_ ”

 

This made him turn back around and hurry into her open arms, his vivid green eyes brightening with suppressed tears as he clung to the elleth that had taken him in and given him a happy home in this world after his bizarre birthday brought him here so many years before.“ _Of course you have my love,_ Ammë.” He murmured into her shoulder, forcing his pained tears back as the only maternal figure he’d really known as his own gently rubbed her hand along the back of his neck, expertly forcing some of the rising tension out. <Mom>

 

“ _Then why do you flee from us?_ ”

 

Harry was silent for several more moments before he chose to offer his patient foster mother a reply. “ _I... I do not want to be her end... I don’t want her grace to diminish for love of me. I would have her leave these shores and be with our – with her people... and take the ships to Valinor._ ”

 

Galadriel sighed, shaking her head again as she continued to gently rub her foster son’s shoulders. “ _That decision is hers to make, my son. Not yours to deny._ ” As she sensed his doubts rising once more in protest she shook her head as she reached into his mind. ‘ _No, my son. Much as you wish to protect her from the fate she might choose, it is her choice to make. It is a choice she may make with your consent or not, as well._ ’

 

“ _What do you mean?_ ” the young wizard asked, confusion clear in his thoughts.

 

‘ _She may have already decided to bind herself to you. If she recognizes you as her marta, she has every right to. For we each only have one perfect match, and the fact that you were born into another world does not change the fact that you and she are truly meant for one another. All too often many people are forced to settle for someone who is merely similar to their perfect match... And you want to force both_ _Ránewen and yourself to settle for less when your perfect match is right before you?_ ’

 

“ _My leaving could kill her!_ ”

 

‘ _Perhaps she will go with you. Either way, whether or not she is willing to take that risk is her choice, my son._ ’ Galadriel shook her head at the aggravation and confuscion she could still sense from her foster son’s mind. ‘ _Make no mistake,_ _Elerossë, your Ránewen knows that she will never love another the way she can love you. That is why she might choose to relinquish her immortality. Just as L_ _úthien_ _chose with Beren in ages long past, better one lifetime with the one she loved, than an eternity on her own, alone._ ’

 

After several moment of silence Harry shook his head again. “ _I don’t know..._ ” he murmured, shaking his head as he pulled away from his foster-mother.

 

The Noldor Queen sighed and shook her head, turning her gaze out onto her city of trees from the great royal hall built upon the tallest trees in the wood. Long had her spells of protection as the highest ranking Eldar remaining upon Middle-Earth and her power as the bearer of Nenya, the Ring of Adamant and Water kept her kingdom safe from all harm. Yet it seemed she could do nothing to help her son. No matter how much she wanted to protect all of her people – both of her children, especially – from the cruelty of the world, it was all too apparent that her protection could only extend so far. But Elerossë, at least, was not beyond saving. He just needed time. “ _Perhaps some travel would be good for you, Elerossë,_ ” she offered gently, granting him a small, kind smile as he turned back to her once more. “ _So you may go with my good graces. Find what answers you can out in the wilds... and then come back to us. But do not leave your lady waiting too long, for even the kindest of hearts can grow bitter if shown enough cruelty._ ”

 

“Be iest lîn,” the Elven-raised Wizard replied with a bow, before offering a small, grateful smile and disappearing with a faint ‘pop’.<As you wish,>

 

After a few moments of thoughtful silence, the Lady of Light’s eyebrows snapped together with an almost audible ‘click’ and she quickly sent her mind out after her foster son once more, not surprised to find him as he reappeared on the borders of her realm – cleverly just beyond the patrols of Haldir and his patrols – she quickly entered his mind once more, to scold him none too gently with an annoyed rebuttal, ‘ ** _Elerossë Celebornion o Lórien_** _, you still need to take your guards with you!_ ’ <Harry, son of Celeborn of Lothlórien>

 

After several moments of fairly impressive mental silence, her Wizarding son’s somewhat petulant reply came back to her on a mental sigh, ‘ _Yes, Mother..._ ’

 

~ * **_Autumn of 253 TA – 500 TA_** * ~

 

After waiting a few spare hours for his surprised bodyguards to be awakened, prepared for the journey and sent to his side on his foster family’s kingdom’s edge, Harry was finally allowed to set out on his quest for answers several hours later than he’d originally wished to. He was more than a little annoyed, as it was clear that despite the many years of practice he’d devoted to studying Legilimency and Occlumency – under his foster mother’s auspices no less! – despite that time, his mother was still able to reach into his mind with near effortless ease. Though he knew she was both a Legilimens and Occlumens with many, many millennia more experience than he, it still irritated him.

 

Therefore he was in a fairly foul mood when he set out from Lothlórien with the bodyguards Haldir had trained and assigned personally to the Lord and Lady’s foster son several decades before at his side. Harry had nothing against the Míriel brothers, Camthalion and Lólindir, personally, but their relation to the lady he was all-but fleeing pulled at his conscious.

 

Though they could occasionally be just as mischievous as the twin terrors of Imladris, the Míriel’s were well-trained guards and good friends, so they did not mention their cousin, or ask why their lord had so suddenly decided to go exploring again, but their very presence occasionally forced Ránewen into his mind, making him nostalgic and irritable at random intervals in the months to come. Eventually it was enough for them to force him to seek civilization in some form, if only to find distraction, so a few months after leaving the Golden Wood, that was what they did.

 

Harry wasn’t sure if he did it just to be difficult, but the civilization he decided to seek was that of the youngest known race on Arda, the Hobbits of the Shire. Recognized as a hero to their people by some of oldest and most respected members of the race, Harry was quickly welcomed to the Shire and invited to stay long as he liked, even going so far as to allow Harry, Camthalion and Lólindir to build a house to suit their own needs just outside of Hobbiton. If being difficult was his desire, Harry didn’t quite succeed, as the Míriel brothers were among the most adventurous and curious of their race, and were more than happy to spend a century or two – no real time span to an elf – among the new nation of very small, but nonetheless unique and even impressive people.

 

Here Harry learned how to tend the land for the first time, with his guards at his side they helped with some of the more labor intensive tasks that the Hobbits, at half their size, would otherwise need to expend a great deal more time and effort to accomplish. Though difficult at first, a few seasons taught them the rewards of the hard work, and made them respect this people of the Shire all the more. Harry knew back on his own world that undoubtedly similar techniques were used among some Muggles, though many wealthier nations had turn to science to provide larger quantities of food at lesser prices. He did not, however, know much about how farming was done among wizards. Aside from helping Ron de-gnome Mrs. Weasley’s garden one summer, he had never really given Wizarding gardening much thought. Though the mental image of Hobbits having to fight off gnomes, which really weren’t much smaller than them, amused him, it didn’t provide him with any answers to his questions. Some browsing through the remarkably useful gift Hermione had given him on his fifteenth birthday had provided some information of trade with Muggles in medieval and modern times, Herbology spells to help wizards with gardening and the possibility that their might be a large Wizarding industry that used house-elves for heavy labor and providing witches with wizards with many of the vegetation they needed in bulk, it was still something he should look into if he ever returned...

 

Of course, despite the heavy labor they were more than happy to help with – well, Harry was happy for the distraction, and his guards were comparatively resigned – they were still recognized as the resident heroes of the community. That being the case they were often asked to deal with the problems that plagued the Shire throughout their somewhat lengthy stay. This was something that Harry was still more than happy to do, and the Míriel brothers even more so, as it was what they were actually accustom to. So they dealt with every problem the Shire faced in the two centuries they were there, from flooding and drought, to wolves, trolls and orcs.

 

Nevertheless, this was not really enough in Harry’s mind. Wishing to protect the Hobbits peaceful way of life in an Age that he sensed would only progressively darken through the course of time, he began to build wards around the Hobbits’ lands, and eventually placed the entire Shire under modified versions of the “notice-me-not” spells that kept Muggles away from Hogwarts and similar magical enclaves. These spells would protect the Shire from any and all who wished to harm the Hobbits for centuries to come, subtly pushing all but those who were seeking the Halflings’ home with no ill will away, preserving this peculiar paradise for at least many generations to come.

 

Their status as the only non-Halfling size residents of the Shire often meant that the Men who visited the Shire from time to time often became their guests if the Hobbits the ran into first judged them worthy of welcome. Therefore, news of the world of men occasionally reached their ears. When news of waves Easterlings periodically attacking the men of Gondor reached their ears, it drew out Harry’s inner hero once more.

 

So Harry completed the wards protecting the Shire and activated several more powerful wards to protect and completely conceal his home among the Hobbits, even placing it under a modified Fidelius, with himself as its Keeper but leaving the responsibility of managing it to whomever held the title of Mayor of Hobbiton, and thereby giving them the right to occasionally allow large guests of the Shire to rest there, if they could be trusted. It would be one of the Shire’s great secrets, though some of its significance and reality would be forgotten as the power of the spells slowly faded with passing centuries, particularly after one of the Mayors was killed in a tragic accident and was thereby unable to pass the secret of Harry’s House onto his predecessor several hundred years after the strongest spells were set. So Harry’s House became part of a myth from tales told by elder generations to curious younglings of the strange hero that had saved the Shire many times and even deigned to live among them with two Elves as companions and guards for several generations. The same myth was often associated with why the Shire remained totally free of troubles for centuries, but after enough time had passed it was never fully believed by most Hobbits, the exceptions beings the young Hobbits who drew comfort from the tales when the wind howled outside their cozy hobbit holes on dark winter nights.

 

Even so, the knowledge that he had done something to protect his little friends allowed him to leave the Shire to lead Camthalion and Lólindir down far more dangerous paths in 490 TA. Crossing paths with the Dúnedain Rangers from time, and even more mortal soldiers occasionally, the three warriors of the Golden Wood slowly helped Gondor fend off the attacks of the different tribes of men from Rhûn.

 

Harry even allowed them to join forces for a time with the Men of Rohan when they fought to retake the fortress of Isengard from the Corsairs. He was glad to have done so, despite the fact that his bodyguards hadn’t allowed him to use his magic among the men for anything other than disguising _them_ as men. His gratification at their involvement in this cause arose shortly afterward, when the King of Rohan sent an invitation to Saruman the White, offering him the Tower of Orthanc as a place of residence. Saruman was pleased with offer, and even gladder of the help that the King offered in moving in. Help that Harry made sure he was a part of, thereby granting him several opportunities to magically copy the Istari knowledge into his wonderful book of knowledge and in so doing turning it into a well of information on Arda as well as Earth. Although he managed to copy the vast majority of Saruman’s collection of oh-so-informative texts, he did have to leave rather quickly after Saruman’s attention truly turned to the inside of his new home. Not wanting to test himself against one – and supposedly the strongest one – of the Istari of Arda just yet, Harry decided it was time to go when the White Wizard began seeking him out for conversation, undoubtedly noticing that there was something off about him and his ‘brothers,’ Cecil and Lorry.

 

Despite the rather hasty exit they had to make in the dark of night, quickly changing appearance and putting distance between themselves, Isengard and in a day or so’s travel all of Rohan, it was a profitable venture that would keep Harry busy for nearly a century afterward as he studied the Istari arts, slowly establishing and pushing his limits just as he had done with the magic of his own world a few centuries before.

 

However returning to the Shire for such study had seemed unwise, as it was not something they were likely to understand the seriousness and even danger of, so he finally allowed himself to return to the first land that had accepted him in this world. After two-hundred-thirty-eight years away, Harry and the Míriel brothers returned to Lothlórien in the year 491 of the Third Age. His return however served him a rather good shock when he found the worry he’d expended over doing so unfounded, as the fair Ránewen had left for Imladris the year before to become one of the Evenstar’s tutors in etiquette.

 

Harry was not entirely sure how to feel about this occurrence. He was a little too world wise to fully believe that this might be a sign from Fate, but it did feel like it in many ways nonetheless. There were many times in his centuries away when quiet moments of simple solitude had seemed like sheer torture to him. He’d kept himself busy, wandering more and more near the end, trying to find a purpose that might make resisting the pull bearable, but it had always been there: even when he was fighting alongside a king and gaining access to the oldest records of the Istari arts. After all his journeying, his heart had felt rather heavy on the way home, still not sure if he was ready to face Ránewen... so to reach the realm of the Galadhrim only to discover she’d left for Imladris one short year before felt strange in many, many ways...

 

~ * **_Cerin Amroth, Lothlórien, Winter, 506 TA_** * ~

 

“ _Fifteen years have passed since you returned to us from your time abroad to find the lady who holds your heart missing, ion nin,_ ” Celeborn offered quietly as he came up beside his stargazing foster-son lying upon the hill of Cerin Amroth, surrounded countless pale green and white niphredil flowers and many small golden, star-shaped elanor flowers, which bloomed only in the slightly chilled months of winter. “ _You distract yourself with the Istari arts even as you distracted yourself with the Hobbits and the warring factions of men._ ”

 

Harry sighed, shaking his head as the wise Lord of the Galadhrim seated himself on the dew covered ground at his side, interrupting his slowly darkening thoughts at the sky darkened and the air chilled in the midwinter night. “ _I cannot go to her, adar nin._ ” <father>

 

Celeborn offered a sad smile as he shook his head, his gaze still fastened on the stars that were just beginning to shine down on this enchanted hill long associated with the beauty and sorrow of star-crossed love. “ _You mean you **will** **not** go to her._ ” He silenced his son with a raised eyebrow as the wizard turned to him ready to protest. “ _No, Elerossë... the choice is hers, and if this prolonged exile from your side is hurting your lady as much as it obviously hurts you, more and more with each passing day, then you are sentencing her to a far crueler fate than a mortal end that might never come._ ”

 

Harry frowned shaking his head, “ _In my world I’m mortal, if she goes with me, she will watch me fade and die of old age if I survive the war that is currently destroying it. If she remains behind, she may yet die of grief if I allow her to bind herself to me. If my denying her hurts her, she may yet seek happiness and eternal life in Valinor, and I can be happy knowing her love shall be ever green..._ ”

 

“ _Can you?_ ” Celeborn the Wise shook his head, sighing once more at the sadness that hung upon this hill and around his son. “ _I do not know if I could bring myself to leave my Galadriel on these shores, or if I could long withstand this world without her love._ ”

 

The thought of his foster-parents separating drew another frown to Harry’s face, and he shook his head forcefully, trying to push the thoughts away even as he sought to draw an answer from his jumbled mind to offer the Elven Lord.

 

“ _You may not like to hear it from yet another person, ion nin,_ ” Celeborn offered quietly, his eyes once again fixed upon the brightening stars above them, which were only slightly clouded by the puffs of chilled air they fogged up with their warm breath. “ _But Fate does not like to be ignored. Whether it was directly involved or not, it was part of what brought you here, and while your connection to Galadriel may have been part of what drew you here, I have no doubt that the fact that your other half also walked this world took part in the decision as well._ ”

 

Silence hung as heavily about them as the sadness of the hill and its younger occupant did for several moments before the wizard offered a sad, weak reply. “ _She must hate me now..._ ”

 

“ _Go to her. If she is angry with you, beg for her forgiveness. Do whatever it takes to get her back, to be happy once more,_ ” Celeborn advised, rising gracefully from the ground as he did so and holding out a hand to pull his son to his feet.

 

With another sigh, the wizard accepted the help and grasped his foster-father’s hand, allowing him to pull him to his feet but starting slightly in surprise when the Elven Lord did not immediately let go after doing so.

 

“ _I know you do not want to recognize it, ion nin,_ ” Celeborn offered quietly as he drew his foster son into his arms and leaned down slightly to murmur his final words directly into the younger being’s ear, “ _but you made your choice the moment you met her. Your mind has been fighting it, but your heart made its decision two-hundred and fifty-three years ago. Denying that only brings pain to you, your love, and all those who care for both of you..._ ” Drawing back slightly, Celeborn offered a small smile as he could see his words seemed to register at least somewhat in his foster-son’s eyes. After a moment, he released his foster-son, and reached into one of the pockets hidden in the folds of his majestic robes. From it he drew a small, box of mithril. “ _Nearly four millennia ago, Galadriel wore this ring when we announced our engagement in Alqualondë. My mother wore it before her, commissioned by my father from the forges of Finwë. We would be honored to see it on Ránewen’s hand, even if only for the betrothal period._ ”

 

With that same small smile never fading or growing, the Lord of Lothlórien gently forced his foster-son’s hand open and placed the small box in it, before gently pressing the younger being’s fingers closed around it. Then, after offering a small, somehow encouraging nod, the Teleri elf turned, quickly making his way away from the young wizard without once looking back.

 

Harry remained alone upon the hill that had once boasted the home of a great Elf King many millennia before his arrival, before any of those who currently walked Middle Earth entered this world. That King’s life had ended with the tragic loss of his love, the fair Nimrodel. After several hours of thought, of weighing all the words of wisdom he’d received on the matter along with the thoughts that had kept him from accepting him, he finally bowed to his fate and looked down at the special box that had been placed so securely in his hand.

 

He closed his eyes for a moment and counted to ten, before opening them again and bringing the box up to his eyes and opening, reverently scrutinizing the ring that lay within. It was a small, fine band of mithril with a strangely shining diamond set between two emeralds. Seeing an engraving in the inside, he turned the box slightly to read it. The writing more than anything else proved the ring’s age: it was gracefully engraved Sarati, the first written alphabet of the Elves, crafted by Rúmil of Tirion in the forty-seventh century of the fourth age. He read the Quenya script aloud quietly, “În Oiale Yala... Our Eternity Awaits...”

 

Harry smiled. Fitting, he supposed, for an Elven betrothal band. After sparing the blameless – yet ever so maddening – ring one more glance, he placidly closed the box and locked its clasp once more before slipping it into the most secure pocket in his robes.

 

With a sigh he then knelt on the hilltop and began to pick a bouquet of the beautiful white and gold flowers that grew only on this symbolic hill. When his bouquet was finished he cast several spells on it, enough to preserve it for many years to come, more than enough for him to make the journey to Imladris with them to offer them as – the first of undoubtedly many to come – heartfelt apologies to his lady.

 

~ * **_Imladris, Early Spring, 506 TA_** * ~

 

Harry smiled as his sister’s home came into view. Elrond’s hidden valley was always a welcome sight, especially now that it housed all but two of the people he loved most in this world.

 

He could sense her again. Ránewen was certainly here. He felt her presence on the edge of his mind, familiar and warming, and drawing a small smile to his face despite the fact that it yet remained weaker than he thought he remembered.

 

His foster-father was right. He _needed_ Ránewen. And no matter how angry she may yet be with him, he had to do anything and everything possible to apologize. To win her back.

 

He was done denying it. Though he might wish his childhood friends could be here, or that he had met her in his own world, Ránewen was his match..

 

“Heru Elerossë, mae govannen!”

 

Harry smiled as he drew his horse to a stop in Imladris’s main courtyard, easily jumping down from his mount and offering the fine steed a gentle pat on the neck before turning it over to one of the stable-hands and turning to return the Balrog Slayer’s greeting, “Mae govannen, Glorfindel. _It’s been a while._ ”

 

“ _Indeed it has, my lord. What brings you to Imladris?_ ”

 

Harry raised an incredulous eyebrow in response. “ _Do you really need to ask?_ ”

 

Glorfindel smirked, “ _One should never assume anything, young prince. But may I assume you are here seeking your long-neglected lady?_ ”

 

Harry sighed, nodding his head resignedly. “ _You may. Might—_ ”

 

“ _That is good, my lord. But first you must speak with Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían._ ”

 

Harry frowned, surprised at being cut off, but figured since he was in fact intruding on his sister and his brother-in-law’s hospitality unannounced – though why his mother couldn’t have let them know was beyond him – he really should greet them before sneaking away to find one of their daughter’s tutors. “ _Of course, are they breaking their fast?_ ”

 

“ _They should be._ ” Glorfindel frowned, “ _Did you ride through the night?_ ”

 

“ _Most nights, yes,_ ” Harry confirmed with a shrug. Ignoring the grumbles this acknowledgement brought from his weary escort. “ _I was in a hurry._ ”

 

“ _In the future, my lord—_ ”

 

“ _It’s not wise, I know._ ” Harry cut him off, a bit irritated at receiving a lecture from his grumpy old teacher, shaking his head. “ _But that is why I let my father assign a full-escort to accompany me, of course. With this many guards, I was perfectly safe._ ”

 

After a moment of glaring Glorfindel sighed, “ _Perhaps._ ” He turned, nodding to the entrance to the Hall of Fire. “ _If you will follow me._ ”

 

Harry rolled his eyes, but nonetheless followed. ‘ _Get lost a few times and they never let you forget it!_ ’ He thought with a slight groan, even as he quickly checked to make sure the miniaturized-bouquet he’d picked for Ránewen was still in fine form within the magic-globe he’d created for it and placed on a chain around his neck, before following the golden-haired lord.

 

 

 

 

**_End of Chapter 1_ ** **_: Manar._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: Well, there are quite a few more changes here, aren’t there? What’d you think?  
> Honestly I’m not sure if I like this chapter yet. Not nearly enough dialogue, but on several of the parts I just couldn’t seem to think of the right dialogue. That’s why Harry’s confused and nervous for most of his wedding. Still some differences in time frames, a few more explanations, etc. At the very least this is certainly much longer than the previous “Chapter 1” of “There and Back Again,” and a lot better written too, I think.  
> Oh! I also have a few more explanations for some of the many changes to. Basically all I’m going to say is that this is my story and writers license lets me change whatever I want, but some of the specific changes were as follows:  
> 1) Istari – “arrived with the dawning of the Third Age,” or shortly after Harry arrived on Middle Earth, instead of around 1000 TA.  
> 2) I know the Shire technically didn’t exit before 200 TA, but I wanted Harry to visit and live there for a while, thereby becoming parts of the Hobbits history. So this Shire was founded a few millennia early.  
> 3) Rohan was also founded a few millennia earlier than in the canon. I haven’t really done much research for it, but basically it just means that:  
> \- Eorl the Young lived a lot earlier in Middle Earth’s history  
> \- Rohan itself therefore came into existence much earlier in time (any time before Harry’s visit there, as mentioned herein around the year 500 of the Third Age.  
> \- The Oath of Eorl was given to a King (one of Aragorn’s ancestors), not a Steward, after an earlier war. That same oath will come into effect in 2510 TA, when the Steward of Gondor, Cirion, will need aid from Rohan, just as he did in the canon.  
> 5) I didn’t research it, but I’m rather sure the Black Gate shouldn’t have existed in 151 TA. I doubt the Orcs should have been able to rebuild it after the Last Alliance tore it down, especially with Gondor still hunting them. But writer’s license is a wonderful thing. :-P  
> 6) I know that the movies actually reversed what was supposed to be true in the books, in that most elves had dark hair and light was uncommon, but I’ve already set the reverse in my mind and I prefer it, so there you have another exercise of writer’s license!
> 
> ...Well I think I covered everything. If I missed something, please feel free to let me know. But I’d really rather not receive complaints about any of the stuff I just explained, if at all possible. If it really makes you want to flame, go ahead, but honestly I’m not sure why you’re even reading fan fiction if that’s the case.  
> And way, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I’d love to hear from you about it, so PLEASE REVIEW! *pouts*  
> Bye for now! ^_^  
> ~ Jess S

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> Latin:  
> Reminiscori – to call to mind/recollect/remember. (Latin)  
> Abeo – to change (Latin)
> 
> Elvish:  
> Elda Kundu – Elf Prince  
> Kurutar – Wizard King  
> Embarenya – Middle-Earth  
> Heru - Lord  
> Heri - Lady  
> Hannon le - Thank you  
> Melda nin – Beloved/My love  
> Laa - No  
> Dan – but  
> Elleth - female elf  
> Seldo - (a) child  
> Atan - human  
> Hwæt - what?!  
> Istari - (a) wizard
> 
>  
> 
> Author's End Note:  
> Just as a little warning; I try when it comes to Elvish, but I am by no means fluent. Most of this I’m using a dictionary for and fudging a little bit (or a lot)... It’s here more because I think it’s fun to play with and like to fit it in where I can – it’s a great way to get around a writers block! – so I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but it’s staying. I tried to use a little less this time around.  
> I know I didn’t change much in the prologue, but the following chapters should be a very different story. I hope you like the rewrite so far.  
> So what do you think of the rather drastic revision in time frames? I thought this might work out better and be more interesting in the long run... plus it means the timeline the story follows will be far more accurate.


End file.
